THE
fog lay low against the slate grey platform and the daylight seemed to
fizz away like burntout
smoke behind the pillars.
The once beautiful building loomed like the House of Usher before me, and the shadows were casting an uneasy glow across the lines. Kirkgate train station is creepy at the best of times, with mindless graffiti, scattered litter and crushed lager cans blighting the once stately looking house Wakefield was so proud of.
A few stony-looking commuters pulled up their coats’ collars against
the autumn chill and
a few tired brown leaves dragged themselves across my path as the breeze
changed directions.
I
settled myself down on the cold bench and waited for a glimpse of the
regal looking lady who
is rumoured to walk the platforms after dark
Steve
Jones, leader of the Wakefield Pagan Moot, told the Express: “I think
everywhere is rumoured to have some kind of white lady, she’s
the stereotypical ghost.
“There are stories of her wandering around Kirkgate, through the pathways to the side and the now derelict Wakefield Arms. I’m not sure if she’s the same ghost or different ones.”
One retired railworker, who didn’t want to be named, said: “There are always stories about ghosts on railways and ghost trains passing through empty stations. But a couple of people did claim to have seen a lady dressed in white who they thought was a passenger.
“Some chap I know even held the train up one night because he saw a lady in an old fashioned dress on the platform. But when he got off the train to check, she had gone.” Student Caroline Addams, 24, a regular commuter, added: “I hate being alone on the station when it’s getting dark. It always feels like you’re being watched.” So I wrapped my coat around myself and sat and waited. And waited. Darkness fell but still nothing.
Obviously 8pm on a Tuesday isn’t Kirkgate’s busiest time, so soon I found myself there alone. Even with no appearances of the ghost, I was still feeling a bit freaked out.
But in my new ghost hunter role, I took myself off to the Wakefield Arms to see if I could spot her knocking around there. I crossed the empty car park, and was about to venture into the grounds when I suddenly felt really, really scared and couldn’t take another step further. I turned and fled. By the time I got back to my car it was pitch black and my hands were shaking as I tried to put my key in the lock.
As I clambered in and quickly turned the lights on, I didn’t dare look in the rear view mirror in case there was something in the back seat.
But as I drove down Aberford Road, I had a little nervous laugh to myself about how stupid I’d been. Anyway, it wasn’t because I was frightened. I was just worried about trespassing.
